Past Tense
by gibrelina
Summary: Reid couldn't save Morgan. Now the only thing he's sure about is that he doesn't know how to deal with it. Songfic: "How to Save a Life" by The Fray. WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH


_Disclaimer: I do not own CM. Unfortunately I also don't own The Fray or their song "How to Save a Life"._

_Warning: CHARACTER DEATH and violence. If you are uncomfortable with that don't read this story. _

_This is a Songfic, even if only barely. haha The song is "How to Save a Life" by The Fray. You should listen to it before reading I guess, even if it's not necessary it's a beautiful song._

_Tah Dah:_

**Past Tense**

_Present_

He smells of death.

He's covered in blood and his eyes are only half-open. It has been full twenty minutes since it happened, but it feels like no time has passed at all. He doesn't look scared, he doesn't look anything, but bloody. Blood covers his hand and his hair; it forces his white shirt to cling to his body. He has stitches on his forehead and Gideon is surprised to know some of the blood is actually his.

He does know the majority of it is not.

"Reid." No answer.

"Spencer? We need to talk."

_Step one you say we need to talk. He walks you say sit down it's just a talk_

He looks up as soon as a hand touches his arms. Eyes wide open now. Then, as he sees who's talking to him, his body goes back to a less tense posture. He's holding something in his bloody hand and Gideon can see a piece of a shirt between his fingers. The one he had used to control the bleeding. Now though, it is his lifeline. His fist is so tight bruises are forming on his palm and Jason touches his arm quietly trying to calm him, because he doesn't feel like he can say it out loud. It feels like it would be asking too much of him.

Reid reacts to his touch by trying to leave, his hands are quickly at the door handle.

"Sit down, it's just a talk."

He runs a hand through his hair and Gideon really wants to know what he's thinking. Normally it's impossible to know what Reid's thinking because he can gather too much in three simple seconds. They joke he's like a computer, but he's a human being and he has never been more human than right now. There's no emotion in his face, not even shock. There's nothing. He walks to the chair and sits down. He isn't sure about what to do with his arms so he throws them between his legs and allows his head to fall.

"You need to go to the hospital. They think you might have dislodged your arm. The paramedic was worried, told me you didn't allow him to look."

"I don't want to go anywhere" was his answer.

"Shock might be keeping the pain at bay, but it will hurt eventually. I told the paramedics you would be going in a few minutes."

Reid raised his head and gave him a smile. It wasn't mocking or sarcastic.

_He smiles politely back at you, you stare politely right on through_

"You don't want to talk to me about my physiological health. I may be in shock, but I'm not dumb."

Denial is the first stage, as the smile allows him to indentify easily. He doesn't want to profile Reid, but the kid is shoving it in his face for all that he can see. Knowing Reid as he knows it might be a death trap. It might be him playing the mind games he tends to do when he is truly scared about something. Having that previous knowledge has nothing to do with intelligence, it has to do with knowing him like a son.

"You know what I want to talk about." Gideon clasps his hands together. "I need you to talk to me. You can't shut this out. What happened inside this house is very real and the sooner you realize it, the sooner you can start overcoming it."

Reid swallows hard and his eyes look everywhere, but him. They are wild for while, and it reminds him of that night in the cemetery, right after he killed Tobias Hankel. Only now the rest of his body is calmer, his hands aren't tied, even though their positioning is unbearably alike. His brown young eyes fall on the window.

_Some sort of window to your right. As he goes left and you stay right between the lines of fear and blame_

Gideon follows his eyes outside. On the floor there are two body bags. One ambulance has already left with the wounded. The night is dark. He can only see his team members because all the paraphernalia which had been brought to the ranch includes lights.

JJ's blonde hair is pressed against Hotch's chest and she cries aggressively, holding onto him. His usual impassible expression now shows clear hurt and he's looking worriedly at Elle, who is sitting on the sidewalk with her head between her knees. Every façade is forgotten when grief sets in, and Gideon wishes Reid could be like them. But he isn't. He is different for the obvious reasons, and he is different because he saw it all happen. He's quick to look away from the disturbing scene.

Gideon is the one who gave them the adress. Hotch and Elle had gone to one location, so when Garcia had called him with another possible one, he had sent Morgan and Reid without a second thought. He did his job, he isn't to blame. He knows there is no way this is his fault, how could he know everything would end up so badly?

But guilt is setting in his stomach anyway. And above it, there is the fear. Fear of how Reid can just sit there emotionless with a friend's blood all over his body. Fear that something inside their boy has finally broken, and won't be able to be replaced. He's terrified it is his fault Reid has empty eyes.

Gideon had invited Reid inside the small room inside the unsub's house thinking far away from the others he would give himself the chance to break down. Only he hadn't. And now all the rehearsed conversation he has on his mind makes no sense and he begins to wonder why he has started the chat in the first place. If he is honest with himself he has to admit he knew Reid would have trouble accepting someone leaving. He has been left behind too many times for it not to mess with his brain.

_And you begin to wonder why you came_

_***_

_Past_

Spencer Reid is tired. His head pounds with the sound of his own gunshots over and over again, rhythmically. Unforgettable. He feels like laughing because everything in his life is unforgettable, big deal. He ignores the fact that the other events don't repeat themselves inside his head time and time again.

It had been a day like any other. He had to break into a house with Morgan, who is always the best company when you have to break into somewhere, because he can kick a door like a class A burglar. If Reid tried he'd probably only manage to break his feet in the process. Morgan had entered first and they had been clearing the place when Reid felt a sharp pain on his head. He fell to the ground immediately, and oddly enough that action saved his life. They were looking for a couple and the woman was the one who attacked him. She wasn't the killer, so she had hesitated and the cut had been shallow even though it bled a lot.

That tinge of luck is the only thing allowing him to breath. It is the only reason he is alive.

_Where did I go wrong I lost a friend, somewhere along in bitterness_

Morgan hadn't had the same luck. He had been wounded on the neck, chest and stomach. He probably would have been stabbed in more places if it wasn't for Reid's quick reaction with the gun to shoot both psychos. He didn't even check if they were alive before running to Morgan.

"Morgan? Hey, look at me. You're going to be just fine!"

_And I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life_

***

_Present_

Spencer is so lost in thoughts Gideon doesn't even try to get him back into the real world. Surprisingly, the young man is the one who speaks first. "Who called Garcia?"

"JJ."

"She's going to be so...sad." He swallows and a strand of hair falls to his left eye. He pushes it away vigorously and the clotted blood on his knuckles stains the skin right below his eyebrow.

"This is hard for everyone, Reid. In this line of job these kind of things happen, I've been doing this for so long and it will always be hard. I know. I know how hard this is for you."

_Let him know that you know best, 'cause after all you do know best_

The first sign of an emotion in Reid is the anger in his low voice. "No, you don't."

He remembers when Reid was 21 and entered the BAU. He had to convince the FBI to let the kid in, he was barely legal after all. Gideon's plan was leave him waiting around the director's room for a few minutes. The older man always left around lunch time and they'd probably bump into each other.

10 minutes of talking to Reid and the director had allowed the special case. He was too bright, too alive.

Now Gideon regrets bringing him in. He had been so alive, and now he he had to hold his friend's hand as he died. He was a wreck. His eyes have a far away look in them that can't be ignored. A look of someone who can't let anyone in. Unfortunately Gideon needs in badly.

"I want to understand Reid, but I can only do that if you tell me what happened inside this house before we arrived."

_Try to slip past his defense, without granting innocence_

He knows it's cruel, but they would need to extract it from him sooner or later. The sooner the better, he guesses.

"You saw what happened. We entered the house, they were smarter. Attacked us. I reached Hotch on his cell phone and called an ambulance. No one got here on time. They were too late." He plays with a loose tread on his cords.

"You shot both of them."

"They deserved it." Reid answers matter-of-factly. Tears shine bright in his eyes for a second, but he blinks them back. His face reveals a confused expression, as if he's completely caught of guard by the sudden rush of emotion his brain is registering. He rubs his eyes worsening the state of his face, seeing as he still holds the piece of destroyed cloth.

"Stop." Gideon orders and that's enough to get Reid's attention. "Stop blocking it out. You have the right to be angry and sad. Do not ignore your feelings it won't do you good."

"Can't I go...home?" His voice comes out strained. He is obviously ignoring Gideon's previous sentence. "I'm tired."

"You are going to the hospital as soon as we are done." Gideon forces himself to say the next words. They are harsh, but extremely necessary. "You need to listen to me Reid. I bet you studied this in psychology: If your brain can't accept a traumatic event, it make plans to ignore it. You might even forget all about what happened after awhile and Morgan will be just a repressed memory in the back of your head, j_ust_ _like your father_. Now, do you want that?"

_Lay down a list of what is wrong, the things you've told him all along.  
__And pray to God he hears you! And pray to God he hears you..._

"No, no, no..." Reid mumbles running both bloody hands through his hair. The blood. The evidence Reid doen't seem in a hurry to wash away, something pretty unusual. He doesn't even seem aware of how much of it is splattered all over himself.

_***_

_Past_

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend_

"Morgan? Hey, look at me. You're going to be just fine!"

He grabbed the knife from the man he had just shot. Blood was dripping from the guy's mouth to the floor, but he didn't give a damn. He took a long piece of the murderer's shirt hurriedly. The man groaned. Reid could only listen to Derek trying not to.

"Ok, so I'm going try to stop the bleeding. I think it hit an artery, so you'll have to help me, can you do that?" He tried to sound calm, but it was so damn hard. Morgan blinked and he took that as a yes. "Ok, so press this against your neck." He placed Morgan's hand on the appropriate place. "I'll be back in a sec."

He took the cell phone from his pocket, dialing to an ambulance and at the same time looking for anything helpful. "Hello, I need urgent help...I'm at Bluebird's Ranch, West to Rivergate, 6D...yeah, just come quick the knife hit his artery." He hung up because he found what he was looking for. A small rock in an arrangement by the kitchen would be the perfect fit. He called Hotch, and tried to talk through his ragged breathing. That could be a sign of an approaching panic attack, but since he had never had one before he was hoping he was simply reading too much into it.

"Hey, Derek!" He called him by his first name. He needed him to stay awake, to focus. He forced a calm face as he removed the cloth from his best friend's neck. Morgan had his eyes closed. Not a good sign. "Derek... M-Morgan, please, please, you...you have to open your eyes, ok?...you got to open your eyes and look at me. Please..." It was hard to speak with his throat so constricted.

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness_

"Yeah, that's right." He mumbled as Morgan looked at him, blinking many times. He coughed and blood poured from his mouth, sprinkling onto Reid who decided the blood was simply coming from the neck wound. Usual.

"Relax." Morgan said and even though it was barely understandable it brought Reid to two edges. One was that his eyes started to burn with unshed tears, and secondly his heart almost exploded with unbearable physical _pain_.

Pain he must ignore.

He forced a smile to match Morgan's one.

"I'm relaxed, man. You need to relax too, because this is going to hurt, but it will stop the blood flow." He didn't have time to explain, there was no time to think over what he was about to do and in how much pain his friend would be in for a few moments. He looked at the wound in Morgan's neck and bile rose to his throat, but he knew he had seen worse.

He pushed himself to keep talking to keep Morgan wide awake. "The ambulance is on the way, but this will make you feel a little better. You're going to be just fine, man. I promise you that, I promise you."

As soon as he poked Morgan's wound the man's breathing hitched . Reid tried not to feel anything. He tried to block it out, but it was hard because his hands were already shaking so bad. "It's o-ok, it will only last a second." He stuttered taking a deep breath and then forcing the small round stone right where the artery had been damaged. Morgan couldn't exactly shout, but the silent scream in his face was worse than a yell. He felt an insane urge to apologize, even though he knew he was doing the right thing.

"Ok, it's done, right? We need to take care of the other wound now, but it will hurt much less, you'll see."

Morgan took a hold of his hand, so strongly he thought his fingers would break. He could hardly feel the pain though. He felt something wet on his eyelid and brushed it away. He couldn't know it was blood from his head wound because his hands were too tinted with Morgan's blood for him to recognize any addition of his own.

He took Morgan's shirt off carefully, ignoring the moans coming from his friend. It was absolutely necessary he acted like a cold-blooded doctor, even though all he knew about medical treatment was what he had read on a few tech books. In normal circunstances that wouldn't have terrified him much, he had once written a complex computer program after Garcia gave him a basic idea. He was smart enough to know he was smart enough to do what was needed. The problem was that it was Morgan, and his heart was close to breaking his ribcage making his hands tremble.

His friend's body held three deep knife wounds. Ugly wounds. He wiped the sweat off his face, feeling a new determination.

"It's all right Morgan. You just have to look at me, ok?" He opened his mouth, but Reid shook his head. "Don't try to talk. The only thing holding the blood in your artery is not an orthodox medical resource, but they'll fix it later, they'll fix it..." He assured him. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins so hard it was a wonder he hadn't combusted. "We'll fix your stomach now, we just have to put some pressure in it."

And Spencer wished he didn't know what a big lie he was telling. Now that he looked at the angle of the wound he knew that a little bit of pressure wouldn't help at all. The knife had perforated his lungs. That was bad, that was horrible, and he wished he didn't know just how bad it was; but that wouldn't take his friend down if he had a say on it. He got up again, ignoring the dizziness and without taking the time to explain where he was heading.

He needed a Bic pen and he needed it fast.

_I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life_

***

_Present_

"Then tell me Reid." Gideon concludes.

"I could not save him, is that what you want to know?" Reid all but shouts. He gets up from the chair. Gideon has the distinct impression he wouldn't be able to sit for a second longer if he tried. "I did everything, and I failed at _everything_! And you guys took so long, everyone took so damn long! And it was just _me..._all by my own_._ I never went to med school, Gideon! I'm not a paramedic!" His voice keeps getting higher. "You were the one who sent us here!"

_As he begins to raise his voice, you lower yours and grant him one last choice_

"So you blame me?" he asks calmly.

"NO!" Reid yells and his throat _hurts_. And it is the first thing in his body which hurts in such a long time.

Gideon takes in how he is blinking way too much and how his eyes are alive with blazing fire. Finally emotions are violently catching up with him; only they are too defensive for Gideon to get closer. At least he also admits it isn't his fault. Trust Spencer to be rational even at the worst time of his life.

"You can blame me and go home, or you can stay and do the right thing."

_Drive until you lose the road or break with the ones you've followed_

"You didn't know anything when you told us to come over, you still don't!" He pants heading towards the window. It is almost morning again.

"If you want me to know you have to tell me Reid. You have to chose, if you don't I can't help you. I can't tell you anything you don't know and I'm sure-"

And then he stops his lecture mid-sentence because Reid's hands are clutching his hair like he is trying to rip it out from its roots and his shoulders are shaking with silent sobs. Gideon sighs. Spencer is just a kid. A 24 year old kid, who should be in college or anywhere far away from death. No one should be allowed to die young, and no one should lose so much faith and innocence when they are barely out of their teenage years.

He decides not to say anything, instead he forces an approach. He grabs Spencer's arm and pulls him away from the window. Reid's knee-jerk reaction is to brush his hand off, but with one more forceful pull Gideon is holding him. And then Spencer is clutching to his mentor's jacket for dear _life_. He is crying like a _child. _Like he hasn't cried in _years. _With too much snot and loud sobs that rack his slim frame, but he can't bring himself to care because the pain in his chest doesn't subside one bit. It is all-powerfull and all-consuming, draining him slowly. It is a black hole planning to abandon him all alone in the dark.

And he has always been damn scared of the dark.

"You did everything you could, no one could have done better."

_He will do one of two things, He will admit to everything_

His voice comes out shaken. "I'm not supposed to...to fail. He always called me a know-it-all, but when he needed, I-I"

Crying like a kid has its side effects because it makes you feel better, but it makes you feel a lot worse too.

"We never expected you to live up to our name calling, Reid."

"I know." He says frustrated, like the knowledge of it doesn't change anything. "I know that! This is all so wrong. When I came to the BAU, I thought..." He looks for words, but they are hidden in plain view so he pulls away from Gideon, trying to gather his thoughts as his eyes rest on the PD cars and body bags again. "I thought everything would be different, you know?"

"The BAU change us more than it changes the world." Jason admits.

Reid's voice is low and calmer. "I'm not the person I used to be."

_Or he'll say he's just not the same and you'll begin to wonder why you came_

Gideon puts a hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Suddenly he understands he needed to be there even if the kid refused to tell him anything, just because he was needed.

Just because it is Spencer Reid, and sometimes he looks too much like his own son.

***

_Past/Present_

No pen. Nothing actually helpful. He looked everywhere, he even asked the woman who was still alive on the other side of the room. She didn't look too hot, but his compassion was running low.

"Hey Morgan, try to breathe slowly, the paramedics should...no, no, look at me Morgan, c'mon!" He grabbed his friend's hand. Morgan didn't open his eyes, but his lips curved into a weak smile.

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness_

"Relax kiddo, I know they're coming." And then the smile faltered. "I'm...tired..."

"Shh, don't speak." He bit down hard on his lip before hearing the blessed muffled noise of the ambulance in a distant road. "See? They are coming!"

"Hey, Pretty boy..."

"Shut up Morgan! Ýou have a rock up your artery, don't speak!" Reid hissed in a high pitched voice. His friend's breathing was shallow. Too shallow.

"Don't...beat yourself..yourself up over this." His lips moved slowly. Too slowly.

"Shut up Morgan, shut up..." The lump constricting his throat was growing to a considerable size and one tear finally made its way down his cheek. He brushed it away angrily and went back to putting pressure on Morgan's wound. He wanted to kick the oxygen back inside his veins and make everything work again. Make his lungs work again. Make Morgan's body work again.

The paramedics broke into the house efficiently, pulling him away and trying to tranquilize him.

It was all a show.

His mind was always far ahead and it could see the end, even though it didn't want to accept that particular finale.

He knew he would never see Morgan's eyes open again.

_I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life_

Gideon had wanted to talk to him and the whole conversation had just left him wasted. He doesn't feel like talking at all. He is aware he should tell him everything, but the words don't come out. When he finally steps outside again the only thing he can bring himself to do is to sit by Elle's side on the sidewalk, not looking directly at anyone.

Elle reminds him of himself. She isn't crying, her eyes are dry. She just looks at him and says "You need to wash that blood off."

He looks at his hand and realizes she is probably right, but his guts twist painfully knowing that if he washes the blood away it's over. After that action Morgan's death is one step farther away and there's no going back. He'd have to start to _move on_ and he's not even sure he is ready to move from the sidewalk yet.

"It's the last thing you have from him." She states with a sad smile.

She's not looking at him and it's not a question, but he answers anyway. "Yeah."

There's a mutual feeling of understanding that goes unsaid because they both can't even stand each other. He's too fed up to be friendly and try to break through Elle's cold stance and Spencer's dirty clothes are too graphical for Elle's taste. He smells of death. The news are bad enough without the gory details.

Spencer thinks it's quite surreal life can change so much without any sort of warning. Two hours ago they had all been happy and healthy at the headquarters of the local PD. Morgan had been throwing jokes about the banana pancakes Elle had ordered last morning directly to her room and Reid suspects he even has gotten himself a local date, because they are bunking together and he remembers vividly seeing an unknown phone number thrown around his friend's unmade bed. He's pretty sure Morgan can get any girl he wants just by flashing his white teeth.

_Could get_, he corrects himself. _Past tense._

Elle doesn't manage to look at him, but she places her hand over his on the sidewalk.

High above the few yellowish clouds, the sun begins to rise in the horizon.

***

I've been listening to The Fray too much lately, and this idea just popped up. It's pretty sad and maybe not too good, but I felt like a _had_ to write it down. it's also AU seeing as Morgan is still very much alive and successfully charming the ladies and also because I wanted Elle in it, but this is post-Revelations. (:

English is not my first language, so sorry if there are many mistakes :/ I'll try to correct them from time to time.

Thanks for reading ! xoxo


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